Her Favourite Flower
by gothicbutterfly95
Summary: There is nothing more wonderful than your newborn child... whether it's your first time, or you've done it seven times before.


A sharp stab to her abdomen woke Maria with a jolt. As she moved so that she was sitting up in bed she felt a spurt of liquid run down her leg, soaking the sheets.

Georg hadn't stirred.

Maria tried to stay calm, but her heart was beating out of her chest and she felt like she could hardly breathe.

It was happening.

She thought she had been prepared for this moment; she thought she could be ready. But now that it was here, she wasn't, and she didn't think she would be. She didn't know if it was even something you could prepare for.

And right now, there was only her; and it seemed scarier. She nudged her husband.

"Georg," she stage-whispered insistently. "I think my water broke. I think it's time."

"Ugh," he groaned, rolling around to face her. "What is it?"

Maria was sure she looked frantic, because he continued before she could speak. "Is it the baby?"

She could only nod.

* * *

"Did you want me to wake Liesl?" asked Georg, sitting up and then getting out of bed.

They had both agreed that Liesl could assist Maria during the birth if she wished. The seventeen year old had been only too happy to agree, somewhat to Georg's surprise; but he knew it was just another way his daughter felt she was being treated as the young woman she was, and he relished that knowledge as much as she did.

Maria nodded. She hadn't been hit with another contraction, but Georg could see she was still in pain.

"Alright," he nodded back.

He dressed as quickly as possible. The early light of dawn outside caught his eye, and he was suddenly grateful the baby had decided to wait until now to come. It was early, but it was not the middle of the night.

He didn't want to tell Maria it would be okay, or to relax. He knew nothing of what his wife would be going through right now, but he did know she didn't need to hear those things now.

He was still somewhat dazed as he made his way downstairs to call the doctor. How could the baby be coming now? He remembered when Maria told him she was pregnant, back at New Year's Eve, when they had been in America for less than a month.

How had that been so long ago? It felt like yesterday.

* * *

 _"Maria?" Georg called from the bed. "Are you alright?" She'd been in the bathroom for a while._

 _"Yes, I'm fine."_

 _A moment later the door opened and Maria slid into bed beside her husband._

 _"Are you sure?" he asked. He was smiling but his eyes were worried. It was just like Maria to carry on with life as usual when she probably shouldn't. Georg was very proud of her strength, but she still wasn't used to the idea of not being strong all the time. "You haven't been feeling well recently and…"_

 _"About that…" she murmured, her voice growing quiet before stopping altogether. For the first time Georg noticed she seemed nervous. But before he could say anything, she blurted out: "Georg, I-I'm pregnant."_

 _Once again, he couldn't respond before she continued. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier…" she wasn't looking at him; her eyes gazing off at nothing in particular. "…I just haven't been feeling well, and it took –"_

 _He kissed her, cutting her off mid-sentence. She seemed to realise he was happy about the news; that the kiss was his wordless acceptance, because Georg felt her relax in his arms._

 _It all made sense now. Why she was so tired, or spent so long in the bathroom. How could he have not seen it before? As a father of seven children already, Georg felt foolish for not realising it sooner. And he hated the thought that, in the last few weeks, the only thing stopping him from making it easier for his wife was that he'd been oblivious to the truth._

 _"Are you sure?" he asked once they broke apart._

 _She nodded, smiling. "I went to the doctor yesterday. He said everything was fine."_

 _"That's wonderful," Georg was smiling, too. "I love you."_

 _She had done it again. After Agathe died, he'd shut Christmas out, along with everything else. This year, with the escape, Christmas had been the last thing on his mind. When Maria had brought it up a few weeks ago, it had only made him more worried._

 _"I love you too," she replied. "I couldn't do this without you. Thank you."_

 _"Thank you," he corrected. While he knew exactly what she meant, at this moment, she was the one who deserved all the credit. She had pulled together a wonderful, festive Advent and Christmas season in an uncertain and less-than-opportune environment, all while battling the early stages of pregnancy for the first time._

 _He reached out and took one of her hands in his, letting the other rest on his wife's stomach._

 _And now she'd given the most precious gift possible: a child born of that love._

 _This year was one never to be forgotten. At times it had been bleak and desperate; at others it had been memorable and life-altering in the best possible ways. But more than anything else, it had been hard._

 _Leaving the country was the obvious example, but it had also been hard for Georg to accept that he was feeling emotions that he'd given up on long ago. It had been hard to act on them, and deal with all their consequences._

 _In many ways this year had been hardest year of Georg's life._

 _It could not have had a sweeter ending._

 _"Happy New Year Captain."_

* * *

"Mother," Liesl whispered from the doorway.

"Hi sweetheart," sighed Maria. She was exhausted, and felt like whole years had passed since she had gone into labour. She knew she had to time the contractions, but was still waiting for the next one.

She had no idea how long she'd have to wait, or how long far apart contractions usually were, especially in the beginning. It made her feel so helpless.

She could not have been more clueless. Until she'd met Georg she had been planning on becoming a nun for goodness' sake. And while her husband had given her plenty of experience in making love since they'd been wed, he could not have prepared her for this even if he had wanted to.

"Father said Dr. Rogers is on his way," Liesl told her, closing the door behind her. "He woke Friedrich up too, and told him to look after the others."

Maria smiled. Georg had been so wonderful. She hadn't even thought about the other children. The knowledge that babies could take several hours to arrive had conveniently slipped her mind.

Her smile vanished as the next contraction hit her. _Babies could take several hours to arrive…_

She wasn't sure if it was the contraction itself, or the thought, that caused her to scream.

"Oh, Liesl," she said once the pain had faded. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," she said. The seventeen year old did not seem fazed at all. "Scream if you need to. Mama used to."

Maria wondered how Agathe could've possibly been screaming enough for Liesl to remember. Liesl had only been eleven when Gretl had been born. After six previous pregnancies, surely a woman would be able to control herself.

Or maybe not. Her mother had died before she had turned three, so the only true mother figure she'd ever had was the Reverend Mother, and Maria could not imagine bringing this subject up with her.

Maybe she should've asked Natascha. Her childhood best friend had been pregnant the last time they saw each other, when she came to the wedding; and Maria had since received word of the godson she'd never met.

But it was far too late now.

And she was beginning to think this was something a simple conversation could not prepare you for.

The high-society ladies who had acted as chaperones during her engagement to Georg had tried to prepare her for her wedding night, but nothing beyond that. And very little of it had been comforting:

 _Close your eyes…it will be over soon enough_

 _Try to relax…that will help_

 _You won't have to do it forever…he'll get bored eventually_

Maria remembered feeling personally offended when she heard that last one. She had wondered how they could think so little of her fiancé. Or had it been about her?

In the end though, what they had said had been in no way representative of her actual experience that first night in Paris.

And now, here she was, about to give birth to her first child, because being with Georg was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

She knew that their child would be same; beautiful, wonderful, life-changing. She just wished she could meet him or her now.

* * *

"It's time," Dr. Rogers said to Maria. "Are you ready to push, Baroness?"

The doctor was an older gentleman who had been their physician since they first arrived in Vermont earlier that year. Though he had guided and attended to Maria throughout her pregnancy, Georg had been hesitant initially about having him be present during the birth, but more for Maria's sake than anything else. After she had assured him that having Dr. Rogers here wouldn't make her feel any less uncomfortable than a midwife, he had relented. If his stubborn wife had her mind made up, there was no point trying to change it. Especially when all he wanted to do for her right now was make things as easy as possible.

"Don't…call…me…Baroness," Maria huffed. She looked angry.

Georg smiled. Even in the throes of labour, his Maria would not let anyone call her 'Baroness.' She'd hated the title from the very beginning, and while it had almost disappeared since their arrival in America, it still came up occasionally. From what Georg could see, the infrequency only made her hate it more.

"I'm sorry, Maria," the doctor amended. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she replied through gritted teeth.

The doctor nodded once at Maria, and then at Liesl, who was standing beside him at the foot of the bed, ready to help as needed.

"Captain, maybe you should…" he began, but Maria quickly interrupted.

"No," she panted.

"You want me to stay?" Georg asked. He was unsure whether she had been talking to him, or simply out of pain. He was aware that a man being present when a woman was giving birth was highly unorthodox. He hadn't even been at home when Liesl was born, and he had not been present for the birth of any of his other children, instead waiting outside, which had been both extremely difficult and incredibly easy at the same **.**

"Yes."

If Maria didn't want him to go, he wouldn't.

He nodded resolutely at the doctor. "I'm staying."

* * *

"A sister? Really?" Kurt groaned dramatically, but, like his other siblings, there was a huge, happy grin on his face.

Georg smiled back. He was so blessed that he had such an amazing family. Liesl was still upstairs with Maria, and he couldn't remember ever being so proud of his daughter. Of all his children. Seeing his eighth child had reminded him all over again how much he truly loved them all.

True to his word, he had stayed by Maria's side until her screams had stopped and the doctor had placed his sixth daughter into her mother's arms.

"A sister!" Gretl squealed. The little ones' enthusiasm was completely different to that of their brother's. Both she and Marta were practically bouncing at the news.

"Can we meet her?" Marta asked, excited. The girl, now eight, had grown so much in confidence since Maria had entered their lives last year, but Georg had never seen her quite this animated or bold.

"Of course," he said, leading the children upstairs.

When they arrived outside the bedroom he paused. "Just be gentle. Your mother's had quite a big day."

"Having a baby is a very exhausting thing," Louisa answered Marta's puzzled expression.

"How would you know?" asked Gretl, indignantly.

Louisa was spared from having to reply as Georg eased the door to his and Maria's bedroom open. Maria looked up from the child in her arms and smiled at them from the bed. True to Louisa's point, his wife did look tired, but Georg didn't think she'd ever looked more beautiful.

The little ones raced up to the bed, jumping up next to Maria so enthusiastically Georg was worried for her. But Maria didn't seem to mind.

"What's her name?" Marta asked Maria.

"She doesn't have one yet," replied Georg.

"We could name her after Mother," Gretl said.

"No, we couldn't do that," said Kurt resolutely. "It would get confusing with two 'Maria's in the house."

"Besides," Brigitta put in, looking over at Louisa. "Maria's also your middle name."

"Well, what about Augusta?" suggested Friedrich. "That's your middle name, isn't it Mother?"

"Yes," nodded Maria. "But we've already decided that it will be her middle name too."

"What about after Mother's favourite flower?" Marta suggested. Georg wasn't surprised. His second youngest daughter loved flowers.

His _third_ youngest daughter loved flowers.

"Rose?"

"Violet?"

"Is Edelweiss even a name?"

"Daffodil?"

Their mother had so many favourite flowers. How could they possibly choose? Everyone was silent for a long moment.

"Rosemarie!" Brigitta announced suddenly.

Nobody said anything immediately. Even the baby was silent, as if considering the suggestion from her sister. But Georg knew, then and there, that this was it. This was his daughter's name. Maria seemed to smile when he caught her eye.

"Perfect."

* * *

"I love you so much Maria," Georg whispered tenderly.

She smiled at her husband. He had barely left her side since Rosemarie had been born.

They were finally alone, having hurried the children out after a good half hour or so, most of which had consisted of Marta and Gretl snuggled on either side of Maria, begging to hold their newest sister so much that she was being passed between them every few minutes.

The others had only gotten to hold her once each, but they hadn't complained.

Georg hadn't had a chance at all. Until now.

"Would you like to hold your daughter?" she asked.

"Another one?" He didn't sound joking at all; completely sincere, and more overwhelmed than Maria thought she'd ever seen him.

"I would love to."

* * *

It had been so long since he'd felt this way. He had almost forgotten. It made it completely new.

She didn't look like anything special; he had always thought all his children looked much the same when they were infants, but the feeling each of them gave him when he held them in his arms was the most special feeling in the world.

His heart always overflowed; it was more than pride, more than awe, more even than love. He had no words to describe it.

How could a child cause him to be so overwhelmed?

Both he and Maria had stilled when they heard their daughter's first wails and, as with his other children, Georg was once more humbled by such a miracle. Holding her now he remembered the most important part of him; his most important role. Not a patriarch, or a war hero, but a father.

Agathe's death had caused him to revert to the old commanding ways he'd honed in his years in the Navy. He had always been a husband and father above anything else; but then he'd been widowed, and, losing his status as the former, had forgotten how to be the latter.

Georg had lost his father when he was only four years old. He had so few memories of him, but even being raised by nannies and governesses and tutors, he knew one thing about his father:

He'd done better than he had.

 _He_ was able to be around for his children, and he hadn't. Buried in grief, it had taken Maria's arrival for him to truly become a father. He told himself he had pushed the children away because of how much they reminded him of their mother, but maybe it was something more. Maybe he'd thought that if he let himself love them, there were more people for him to lose.

"My father wasn't around," he cooed to the child. "I swear that I'll be around for you."

He had promised himself that day, after their argument by the lake, that he would be around for his children; no matter what it took, or how many mistakes he'd make along the way, he would be the father they needed and the father they deserved.

They probably needed that now more ever before.

There was something wistful about the knowledge that Rosemarie would not grow up in, or possibly even see, Austria; but Georg knew they would all make a wonderful new life for themselves in America. He loved his country so, but as Maria had told him the day they'd had to flee, Austria was their homeland. Their family was their home.

"She's beautiful," he said, handing Rosemarie back to her mother. "As are you, _liebe_."

Maria paused as she brought the baby to suckle at her breast.

Georg smiled; after being married for a year, he could still get his beautiful wife to blush like a schoolgirl when he complimented her.

It never stopped being adorable.

"You know," Maria whispered. "She has your eyes."

"And her mother's name," he smiled. "Well, sort of."

They both laughed.

"And one day," he added softly, unable to keep his eyes off his wife, quietly holding their daughter. "I'm sure she will blow us all away."

Maria smiled. "They all will."

* * *

 **The flashback was a moment from my story _Advent in America_ that didn't make it. I hope it's not confusing, but if it is, you can look at that story.**

 **The last section was very heavily inspired by the song _Dear Theodosia_ from _Hamilton_ (by the end I wasn't even trying to hide it.) But in addition to it just being a beautiful song, I think it fits very well for this moment in Georg's life.**

 **I hope you enjoyed! Have a great day.**


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